It's almost been a year now, since I started this blog, mostly for healing from an event last March that shook my world and my beliefs to their core. I've been up and down (way down) since then and you've all been a part of the ride. Was interesting, even fun sometimes, but mostly and adventure into my soul and mind and heart. While at first it wasn't important that anyone read it but me, but as it grew in popularity I discovered that I was not only writing for myself, but for you. Not in the hopes to necessarily teach you anything, you probably know more than I do, but in the hopes to open your eyes and hearts to something you may have missed along the way, or to a different way of looking at something. Or even more importantly, to hold a mirror up to you, so you can see you are not alone.
I think I've accomplished that. And I'm planning on more weekly blogs, but I'm giving you fair warning right now, they will probably not be about my broken heart or anymore wallowing. . . because that's been mended. Yes-sir-re-bob! And not by another man in my heart/mind, but by FINALLY really taking my own advice and knowing I deserve better than him. I deserve to be treated better, and I am no one's mistress. I'm number one, always! I am the complete package and I shouldn't have to settle for waiting for a weak man who says he can't make a choice and then makes the wrong one, but instead of letting me go, as he would if he truly loved me, he keeps me around by dangling promises of a future that he knows will never happen.
Why? Why would he do this? (when asked i get i don't knows. . . and because i love you both. . . ) But the more important questions is Why would I allow myself to be treated like this. Why do I believe I need to be tortured by this man, or to torture myself with his choice? You see he has very little to do with this, I chose to stick around, and hope for him to wake up. . . for a year and four months. . . and remember kiddies he's only been married for seven of those. . . so you do the math. . .He's a real committed man, eh? Needless to say the longer this went on the more sorry I've begun to feel for his wife. And the more I've come to be very disappointed in him.
Now that I've fallen out of love with him, I could be his friend, unfortunately he really doesn't want that. (Be careful what you wish for, you might get it. . . . This is what he wanted.....too bad he didn't understand he could do no wrong because I was in love with him) He's too fragile to handle the truth about why, and I've discovered he can't take any constructive criticism and has temper tantrums, citing that he's hyper-sensitive. Well, one more fault i loved him in-spite of, but as 'just friends' i can't tolerate. He's right in this, I do believe he should have just taken the criticism, as we all do, and moved on. Either used it or not, but not gotten all bent out of shape over a suggestion. But I know secretly he thinks he's smarter than I am, because he uses pompus words, and btw, that's the way he thinks. . . so it's not just for show. . . or to impress. . . which makes him.. . . hum. . . anyway, I digress. He may be smarter than I am, but I'm wiser. And I still believe he made the wrong choice, we would have challenged each other, and would have made each other better people because of it. I could have given him strength, and he could have smoothed my rough edges. But he's happier with a woman that will never challenge him and let him just be. Not surprising, really.
While IF he's even reading my blog anymore, I'm sure he's fuming right now, and I'm also sure he thinks he knows exactly what is coming next, the big blame all on him. . . because you see his own guilt makes him go there ALL the time. No matter what I say, and I don't blame him. Never have. I blame us both. From the beginning up to now.
Will we be able to patch this up? I don't think so. Will we try? I don't think so. Will that be tragic? Probably. But we will never know the difference, so it won't matter. I'm done pretending that it doesn't matter and my time will come. If I ever see him again, it will be because he has grown and misses me. I'm done chasing him. And I honestly hope that his life is miserable without me in it, and that he does something to rectify that. But trust me on this, my life will be fine without him. Even if everything falls apart today, I still have my wonderful children, my friends. All the rest is details.
I'm back. And it feels really good.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Why is the Sun so BRIGHT?
So I'm in St. Paul still and wondering why is the sun so bright? I mean come on! Doesn't the sun understand that I'm hungover and its really an imposition for my eyes?
I have spent another wonderful weekend with one of my very special adpoted famliies in the twin cities. The children have been their usual bright spots that can warm my somewhat bitter heart and make me forget about that tragic part of my life, and remember my own wonderful children at these ages.
My best friend Erin an April and Joe along with Dtubes enjoyed another fun filled night of singing to Pat McCurdy, Minnesota style this time. And except for Stubes they were all virgins! And Pat properly initiated them into the fold; (I'm sworn to secrecy on the details).
I know I must leave today, there are comittments at home to prepare for work tomorrow and, hopefully some writing or gaming to accomplish. But before I leave to face the unforgiving sun, I will leave you with the wise words of Pat McCurdy, "I want to ruin my life! " (look him up on youtube, you wont regret it)
I have spent another wonderful weekend with one of my very special adpoted famliies in the twin cities. The children have been their usual bright spots that can warm my somewhat bitter heart and make me forget about that tragic part of my life, and remember my own wonderful children at these ages.
My best friend Erin an April and Joe along with Dtubes enjoyed another fun filled night of singing to Pat McCurdy, Minnesota style this time. And except for Stubes they were all virgins! And Pat properly initiated them into the fold; (I'm sworn to secrecy on the details).
I know I must leave today, there are comittments at home to prepare for work tomorrow and, hopefully some writing or gaming to accomplish. But before I leave to face the unforgiving sun, I will leave you with the wise words of Pat McCurdy, "I want to ruin my life! " (look him up on youtube, you wont regret it)
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Saturday Night's Alright for . . . Party!
I'm sure Elton John will forgive me for the thinly veiled reference to his song for my title, but it sure felt like that's what he might have meant for me last night. What a great evening with two very different groups of my friends in two very different places in their lives. One getting ready to take the plunge, the other swimming strong solo or with whoever catches her fancy.
The first party was a friend's bachelorette party. (and if you are a fb friend then you've already seen the pictures- thanks- some good ones there) She used to live here and now lives in Minnesota and brought some of her big city friends to us her old friends, to our quaint little town, so we could show them how we do it in the Styx. (lets see how many band names and movies i can plug) And in the three hours i spent with them we had a good quantity of booze (why is rum gone? oh right, because i drank it) and had some dancing on the bar by a fabulous drag queen who was the brides date. (no Coyote Ugly here, at all) And I loved her. Reminded me of my first husband, and my first boyfriend in high school, but I digress. . . She along with some of the other members of the bachelorette party, who were so caught up in the happy romantic adventures of the bride to be (close one, WHEW...good for me I did not let my bitterness or cynicism ruin it for myself or her) taught me how to do The Cupid Shuffle. Look it up on line, it's a fun and easy dance and again. . .pictures of me watching and then doing, just like that. I was always pretty quick at picking up a basic step and this is not too far off from The Hustle.....(does that date me or what?)
After about three bars in three hours. . .I know a long time in each bar, but in their defense they were doing a scavenger hunt that quite frankly I did not have the attention span for, especially when drinking. And watching our drag queen have all the fun with the straight men in the bar was entertaining, but after a while i started to want to dance again, or at least bang my head. . . fade out to second party.
The birthday party of an old friend of mine, (the big 30) she's like another daughter to me, but the one that doesn't come home a lot, or spend much time with me even on line. She breezes in and out of my life usually on our birthday's. But when she does and we do see each other again, it's not like we have to 'catch up' we just 'pick up' where we left off. And last night was no exception. I miss her. And it being her birthday a few of our mutual friends were there. Some I see much more often then her. . you know who you are (see you at Daze), others I wish I saw more often. . . again you know who you are, (loved your band The Sweatboys, and I miss you too. AND then there was-- it has been a LONG time....thanks for the song....was so good running into you again too. AND then there was -- my Corsican Twin...love always seeing you...Wow more people than I thought) I even met some new people, and had a very drunk young man try to hit on me. Of course there were people that should have been there (one is still a pussy for not coming) and others that should not have come, but well, at least she finally had the good sense to leave before she was forced to leave. Of course the drama that usually surround this friend of mine was there as well. . . but kept to a low roar for her, thankfully, since it's a smaller bar but was packed with people and nice and loud music.
Of the three bands that played last night, two heavy metal one a Judas Priest/Depeche Mode mix....AND I DO MEAN MIX-The Sweatboys, was my favorite, and it has everything to do with knowing the lead singer, personally. Was so glad i kept to my original plan and went to both parties.
And while my heart had been on vacation at Lake Pity before the events, I found myself, once freed of the theme of the bachelorette party to be in a place of not even thinking about that, or him. At least for a few hours I could enjoy my life and this time, I didn't even take him with me. . . or wish he could be seeing it. Not that I don't think in retrospect that he wouldn't have had a blast learning the dance and banging his head in the back ground somewhere. . . but well, it's just time to let him go. It's time for me to dance again, and feel again, and live and love again away from the shores of Lake Pity. I think I'll take my ship out into the wide sea, leave this Lake of Pity and Cape of Disappointment, and see where my ship takes me. I don't even care if I never find a first mate. I just need to get away from sadness and get more joy back in my life. Besides, if he spends so much time with me, how good could her life with him really be? And while I've been concerned that he'd be unhappy without me, I'm sure he'll find someone else to replace me. And maybe I can still send him updates via Message In A Bottle. (thanks Sting. . .I needed a closer)
Cheers
The first party was a friend's bachelorette party. (and if you are a fb friend then you've already seen the pictures- thanks- some good ones there) She used to live here and now lives in Minnesota and brought some of her big city friends to us her old friends, to our quaint little town, so we could show them how we do it in the Styx. (lets see how many band names and movies i can plug) And in the three hours i spent with them we had a good quantity of booze (why is rum gone? oh right, because i drank it) and had some dancing on the bar by a fabulous drag queen who was the brides date. (no Coyote Ugly here, at all) And I loved her. Reminded me of my first husband, and my first boyfriend in high school, but I digress. . . She along with some of the other members of the bachelorette party, who were so caught up in the happy romantic adventures of the bride to be (close one, WHEW...good for me I did not let my bitterness or cynicism ruin it for myself or her) taught me how to do The Cupid Shuffle. Look it up on line, it's a fun and easy dance and again. . .pictures of me watching and then doing, just like that. I was always pretty quick at picking up a basic step and this is not too far off from The Hustle.....(does that date me or what?)
After about three bars in three hours. . .I know a long time in each bar, but in their defense they were doing a scavenger hunt that quite frankly I did not have the attention span for, especially when drinking. And watching our drag queen have all the fun with the straight men in the bar was entertaining, but after a while i started to want to dance again, or at least bang my head. . . fade out to second party.
The birthday party of an old friend of mine, (the big 30) she's like another daughter to me, but the one that doesn't come home a lot, or spend much time with me even on line. She breezes in and out of my life usually on our birthday's. But when she does and we do see each other again, it's not like we have to 'catch up' we just 'pick up' where we left off. And last night was no exception. I miss her. And it being her birthday a few of our mutual friends were there. Some I see much more often then her. . you know who you are (see you at Daze), others I wish I saw more often. . . again you know who you are, (loved your band The Sweatboys, and I miss you too. AND then there was-- it has been a LONG time....thanks for the song....was so good running into you again too. AND then there was -- my Corsican Twin...love always seeing you...Wow more people than I thought) I even met some new people, and had a very drunk young man try to hit on me. Of course there were people that should have been there (one is still a pussy for not coming) and others that should not have come, but well, at least she finally had the good sense to leave before she was forced to leave. Of course the drama that usually surround this friend of mine was there as well. . . but kept to a low roar for her, thankfully, since it's a smaller bar but was packed with people and nice and loud music.
Of the three bands that played last night, two heavy metal one a Judas Priest/Depeche Mode mix....AND I DO MEAN MIX-The Sweatboys, was my favorite, and it has everything to do with knowing the lead singer, personally. Was so glad i kept to my original plan and went to both parties.
And while my heart had been on vacation at Lake Pity before the events, I found myself, once freed of the theme of the bachelorette party to be in a place of not even thinking about that, or him. At least for a few hours I could enjoy my life and this time, I didn't even take him with me. . . or wish he could be seeing it. Not that I don't think in retrospect that he wouldn't have had a blast learning the dance and banging his head in the back ground somewhere. . . but well, it's just time to let him go. It's time for me to dance again, and feel again, and live and love again away from the shores of Lake Pity. I think I'll take my ship out into the wide sea, leave this Lake of Pity and Cape of Disappointment, and see where my ship takes me. I don't even care if I never find a first mate. I just need to get away from sadness and get more joy back in my life. Besides, if he spends so much time with me, how good could her life with him really be? And while I've been concerned that he'd be unhappy without me, I'm sure he'll find someone else to replace me. And maybe I can still send him updates via Message In A Bottle. (thanks Sting. . .I needed a closer)
Cheers
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The Ides Of March-Indeed
Yesterday was the Ides of March, and while I'd like to think I'm not seriously superstitious. . . I should have heeded the warnings. For the Ides of March were not kind to me. I had begun this week in a blue funk that I felt almost sure I could shake off. . . but found it increasingly harder to do so as the day wore on and by Tuesday, as I found myself wallowing in Lake Pity, hating my life and lusting after the life of various and sundry other women. (okay, okay. . . who am I kidding. One woman) Anyway, I have no magic wand, no tele-a-port device or time machine, so I guess that's not going to happen and she gets to keep her life. Fair warning to her if she's out there reading this. . . I still am gunning for it. But on to more grief.
So, on Tuesday, the Ides of March, as I'm sitting on line, wasting my day off hoping to see him on line, it occurs to me. I've become a stalker. I'm an Internet stalker! If course I've been told over and over by the people that matter that ". . .of course they don't consider me a stalker". . . But hey? Isn't that EXACTLY what you would say to and Internet stalker? I mean you wouldn't want to upset them right? Right. So instead of going outside and living my life, and being the woman he fell in 'whatever' with, I continue to lust after her life, and for some strange reason have found the shores of Lake Pity to be far too accommodating to leave. I think I'll invest in a lawn chair and a big beach umbrella, for I burn so easily.
That night I was out with friends, our lap tops in hand at the local Internet hook up to chat with our social networks while with our human ones. Like all the 'really cool people do' (I really hate them. . . . the really cool people --nod to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett) My mission to regal him with the most hysterical stories of the people watching that night, and show him all the fun he is missing not being with me. And what do I do? I start to feel. that's right. I start to FEEL. And I don't mean the wonderful, fabulous ways he makes me feel when he's telling me he loves me. . . oh no. I start to FEEL like I deserve more. MORE! can you believe it? MORE than the hours he already spends on line with me, MORE than the twice a week phone calls, MORE than every way he lets me into his life now that proves how much he needs me. . . . Crazy you say? Maybe. And what more do I want? Well, not much. Just what any sane woman would want from a man that says he loves her. . . I want him. All of him, all the time. Not a half life (good game) kind of fantasy where if I hold on he might someday, maybe, if circumstances were different, and if i don't do anything to hurt him between now and that fantasy, want me as much as I want him. WOW. Is that what I've been doing for over a year? Wait a minute, let me check my watch. One year and four months. And the hits just keep coming.
So I start to feel and I state my case and of course, he listens, and tries to convince me that he does love us both and its real, and I'm just so stubborn. I push him away. AGAIN. OVER and OVER I do this. And he keeps coming back. You'd think that would convince me that he loves me, and it does. But as my inner self loathing is oft prone to remind me. . . .'not enough to marry or be with, no. . . he loved her THAT much, you just enough to. . ." well we won't go into the details here. At this point I decide my pride needs a good soaking at Lake Pity and get out the sunblock.
Needless to say, as verbose as I am I did a SUPER JOB. As you can imagine. And I know you are so very proud of me and I must say for about fifteen seconds so was I. And in the process made myself sick. No I mean it. I was so upset afterward at the thought that I'd not have him in my life at all, I was a puddle, and made myself sick. Either that or I ate a bad melon or something because I was in the bathroom being sick most of the night and morning. Between sobbing. You know it's really hard to throw up when you are crying? Kind of like trying to stop a sneeze. . . you just can't do it. So needless to say I didn't sleep all that well, and couldn't make it in to work today because i kept thinking i might start throwing up or crying again. Well the throwing up was the part that had me the most worried.
I'm keeping food down now. . . and trying to figure out why I can't just be happy and accept what he can give me. Why I have to self-sabotage my life when I'm happy, into some freak show of drama and unhappiness. And why I continually love men that clearly don't deserve me or I'd be THE ONLY choice. (Actually I don't believe you can choose who you love, but thats an earlier blog topic). I'm off to the land of Oz now to dream of lands somewhere over the rainbow that I can be happy in, I've checked out of my executive suite, it was getting lonely in there anyway, and all the root beer is gone, and tomorrow I'm striking back at the world with what I hope to be the old Jill. the Jill he fell in 'whatever' with, before my heart was reawakened to love and trophy winning sex The Jill that was actually happy alone and single and didn't need anyone to complete her. I miss her.
So, on Tuesday, the Ides of March, as I'm sitting on line, wasting my day off hoping to see him on line, it occurs to me. I've become a stalker. I'm an Internet stalker! If course I've been told over and over by the people that matter that ". . .of course they don't consider me a stalker". . . But hey? Isn't that EXACTLY what you would say to and Internet stalker? I mean you wouldn't want to upset them right? Right. So instead of going outside and living my life, and being the woman he fell in 'whatever' with, I continue to lust after her life, and for some strange reason have found the shores of Lake Pity to be far too accommodating to leave. I think I'll invest in a lawn chair and a big beach umbrella, for I burn so easily.
That night I was out with friends, our lap tops in hand at the local Internet hook up to chat with our social networks while with our human ones. Like all the 'really cool people do' (I really hate them. . . . the really cool people --nod to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett) My mission to regal him with the most hysterical stories of the people watching that night, and show him all the fun he is missing not being with me. And what do I do? I start to feel. that's right. I start to FEEL. And I don't mean the wonderful, fabulous ways he makes me feel when he's telling me he loves me. . . oh no. I start to FEEL like I deserve more. MORE! can you believe it? MORE than the hours he already spends on line with me, MORE than the twice a week phone calls, MORE than every way he lets me into his life now that proves how much he needs me. . . . Crazy you say? Maybe. And what more do I want? Well, not much. Just what any sane woman would want from a man that says he loves her. . . I want him. All of him, all the time. Not a half life (good game) kind of fantasy where if I hold on he might someday, maybe, if circumstances were different, and if i don't do anything to hurt him between now and that fantasy, want me as much as I want him. WOW. Is that what I've been doing for over a year? Wait a minute, let me check my watch. One year and four months. And the hits just keep coming.
So I start to feel and I state my case and of course, he listens, and tries to convince me that he does love us both and its real, and I'm just so stubborn. I push him away. AGAIN. OVER and OVER I do this. And he keeps coming back. You'd think that would convince me that he loves me, and it does. But as my inner self loathing is oft prone to remind me. . . .'not enough to marry or be with, no. . . he loved her THAT much, you just enough to. . ." well we won't go into the details here. At this point I decide my pride needs a good soaking at Lake Pity and get out the sunblock.
Needless to say, as verbose as I am I did a SUPER JOB. As you can imagine. And I know you are so very proud of me and I must say for about fifteen seconds so was I. And in the process made myself sick. No I mean it. I was so upset afterward at the thought that I'd not have him in my life at all, I was a puddle, and made myself sick. Either that or I ate a bad melon or something because I was in the bathroom being sick most of the night and morning. Between sobbing. You know it's really hard to throw up when you are crying? Kind of like trying to stop a sneeze. . . you just can't do it. So needless to say I didn't sleep all that well, and couldn't make it in to work today because i kept thinking i might start throwing up or crying again. Well the throwing up was the part that had me the most worried.
I'm keeping food down now. . . and trying to figure out why I can't just be happy and accept what he can give me. Why I have to self-sabotage my life when I'm happy, into some freak show of drama and unhappiness. And why I continually love men that clearly don't deserve me or I'd be THE ONLY choice. (Actually I don't believe you can choose who you love, but thats an earlier blog topic). I'm off to the land of Oz now to dream of lands somewhere over the rainbow that I can be happy in, I've checked out of my executive suite, it was getting lonely in there anyway, and all the root beer is gone, and tomorrow I'm striking back at the world with what I hope to be the old Jill. the Jill he fell in 'whatever' with, before my heart was reawakened to love and trophy winning sex The Jill that was actually happy alone and single and didn't need anyone to complete her. I miss her.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
I'm Okay . . Are You?
This morning I feel unusual, strange, and unprepared. But it's not in the normal negative vein that my self destructive and self fulfilling prophecies of doom usually take me. I've come to realize throughout my life that when things are going well, I get uncomfortable. I guess it's because for most of my life things have not gone well, and I've been forced to adapt. To make things come out great. And being in a constant state of fear and worry has always seemed to be a normal state.
So when things are really going well, I must sabotage them, so that I can panic, and fix them and be 'happy'. this is a common fatal flaw with many people from broken homes, and single parents, and people that just have had difficult lives and had to adapt to survive. I have done it in both my personal love life and my professional life.
But this morning, as with yesterday, and even Friday most of the day after the 'bad news' hit me. I am surprisingly okay. And not in an "I'm okay, really I am. . . and then you never see me again, 'chick' okay." but a true feeling of, everything will be okay. And in my life that is never the case and will be a struggle both financially and emotionally if my worst fears come true. And Friday. . . they started to. . . and while I would normally be a basket case, and down on myself, I'm surprisingly okay.
Now you know I'm not a religious person so this is not faith, but could this be confidence? Am I okay because I know I can do what is necessary to make my dreams come true? Is this the feeling I've preached about for so many years to others, believing it was out there for them, but never really having it for myself? Is this what is feels like to believe in myself, and to stop accepting what I think I'm worth, and going for what I want? What I know I deserve? What I need? Am I finally understanding that I can be happy, and it's okay?
So when things are really going well, I must sabotage them, so that I can panic, and fix them and be 'happy'. this is a common fatal flaw with many people from broken homes, and single parents, and people that just have had difficult lives and had to adapt to survive. I have done it in both my personal love life and my professional life.
But this morning, as with yesterday, and even Friday most of the day after the 'bad news' hit me. I am surprisingly okay. And not in an "I'm okay, really I am. . . and then you never see me again, 'chick' okay." but a true feeling of, everything will be okay. And in my life that is never the case and will be a struggle both financially and emotionally if my worst fears come true. And Friday. . . they started to. . . and while I would normally be a basket case, and down on myself, I'm surprisingly okay.
Now you know I'm not a religious person so this is not faith, but could this be confidence? Am I okay because I know I can do what is necessary to make my dreams come true? Is this the feeling I've preached about for so many years to others, believing it was out there for them, but never really having it for myself? Is this what is feels like to believe in myself, and to stop accepting what I think I'm worth, and going for what I want? What I know I deserve? What I need? Am I finally understanding that I can be happy, and it's okay?
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Invasion of Lewis Carroll
"The time has come, the walrus said, to speak of many things, of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings. And why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have wings."
I have no idea why this quote from Through the Looking Glass, by Lewis Carroll is running through my brain, but I figured it must be for a reason, and so brought it out into the open. Nonsense verse is so difficult to write and he did it so effortlessly. And while that is a very intellectually correct thing to say about the verse, it really has nothing to do with why it may be in the front of my brain.
While i consider myself an armchair intellectual, I do not hide behind fifty cent words and use them to change the meaning of a conversation, unless it's for humor, and so when I 'speak of many things' they tend to be up front and blunt. And I can only assume that this is on my mind because I may feel a need to 'speak of many things" And I tend to take a very, very, very long time in deciding when the right time might be to speak of them, if at all.
Being a blunt person does not mean I want to hurt feelings, quite the contrary. I understand that most people can't handle the truth, and go to great lengths to hide from it. I even let them, most of the time. Sometimes by drowning themselves in booze or drugs or self destructive physical behaviors. And giving the excuse that they just needed a 'break' or to 'cut loose' or 'never believing it would happen to them' and not seeing the effects or the consequences of their actions. Not only on their own lives, which lets face it, honestly, most of us are only concerned with our own lives and how if effects us. But on the lives of others. On the feelings of others. How many people have you destroyed or made bitter by a senseless act of selfishness? Or worse, have you even asked yourself how many hearts YOU have broken before you wallow and lament upon your own broken heart? Perhaps it's once again too painful to realize so you look the other way, you pretend that you never hurt anyone, because they never cared to begin with. Which we know isn't true.
I use to be this person, many, many, (I hate to tell you how many) years ago. But it's one thing I've finally learned about life and love and all of emotions that pull and push us toward and away from each other. You can fight it all you want, you can even try to convince yourself "how to feel" for whatever reason. But I tell you this now as a friend from the cold, dark net. . . You can't hide from what you are, feel or believe. It will be apparent. You may think you are doing a great job in hiding your feelings and emotions. You may even be so good at it that you think everyone is fooled. But really you are the only one being fooled. You have convinced yourself that your 'image' of yourself is what everyone else sees. But really, the people that truly love you and respect you, have seen who you really are all along. And the big secret. . . .
. . . they love you anyway.
So quite hiding from yourself. Look at all your shoes, and ships and sealing wax. Speak of your cabbages and kings. and if your life is in the boiling sea, remember pigs have wings.
cheers
I have no idea why this quote from Through the Looking Glass, by Lewis Carroll is running through my brain, but I figured it must be for a reason, and so brought it out into the open. Nonsense verse is so difficult to write and he did it so effortlessly. And while that is a very intellectually correct thing to say about the verse, it really has nothing to do with why it may be in the front of my brain.
While i consider myself an armchair intellectual, I do not hide behind fifty cent words and use them to change the meaning of a conversation, unless it's for humor, and so when I 'speak of many things' they tend to be up front and blunt. And I can only assume that this is on my mind because I may feel a need to 'speak of many things" And I tend to take a very, very, very long time in deciding when the right time might be to speak of them, if at all.
Being a blunt person does not mean I want to hurt feelings, quite the contrary. I understand that most people can't handle the truth, and go to great lengths to hide from it. I even let them, most of the time. Sometimes by drowning themselves in booze or drugs or self destructive physical behaviors. And giving the excuse that they just needed a 'break' or to 'cut loose' or 'never believing it would happen to them' and not seeing the effects or the consequences of their actions. Not only on their own lives, which lets face it, honestly, most of us are only concerned with our own lives and how if effects us. But on the lives of others. On the feelings of others. How many people have you destroyed or made bitter by a senseless act of selfishness? Or worse, have you even asked yourself how many hearts YOU have broken before you wallow and lament upon your own broken heart? Perhaps it's once again too painful to realize so you look the other way, you pretend that you never hurt anyone, because they never cared to begin with. Which we know isn't true.
I use to be this person, many, many, (I hate to tell you how many) years ago. But it's one thing I've finally learned about life and love and all of emotions that pull and push us toward and away from each other. You can fight it all you want, you can even try to convince yourself "how to feel" for whatever reason. But I tell you this now as a friend from the cold, dark net. . . You can't hide from what you are, feel or believe. It will be apparent. You may think you are doing a great job in hiding your feelings and emotions. You may even be so good at it that you think everyone is fooled. But really you are the only one being fooled. You have convinced yourself that your 'image' of yourself is what everyone else sees. But really, the people that truly love you and respect you, have seen who you really are all along. And the big secret. . . .
. . . they love you anyway.
So quite hiding from yourself. Look at all your shoes, and ships and sealing wax. Speak of your cabbages and kings. and if your life is in the boiling sea, remember pigs have wings.
cheers
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